Luke Comes Undone
by Xisa
Summary: Luke tries to come to terms with Lorelai’s engagement, which proves difficult when Lorelai’s coddling, Kirk’s offering advice on women, and Miss Patty’s arranging blind dates.
1. Chapter One

_"Because everyone knows that Luke has a thing for you."_

Lorelai stood beneath Luke's chuppah, fingers caressing the beautifully carved images as she contemplated Rory's words and other such nonsense. She glanced around the serene neighborhood, waved at Babette as she retrieved a newspaper from her front porch, watched others as they began their day. It was an ordinary morning in Stars Hollow except it didn't feel like an ordinary morning in Stars Hollow. An irritating weirdness had attached itself to Lorelai's normally normal life and she couldn't quite figure out how to make it go away. Her mind was near to bursting with the conundrum. When had the weirdness started? Where had it come from? Why she did she feel a sudden yen to run naked and screaming through the town square?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the loud and clumsy impact of rubber and wood as Rory stumbled down the porch steps in brand new loafers, near fall averted when she grabbed hold of the rickety rail.

A guilty Lorelai rushed toward her, discreetly kicking a crowbar beneath a shrub. "Alright there, Ror?"

Unfazed, Rory hitched her backpack over her shoulder. "I'm well past the gangly awkward stage, so it's either my nifty new shoes or our house is falling apart."

"Little bit of the shoes, some of the house and a whole lot of the gangly awkward stage."

"You are _so_ not invited to the rest of my puberty." Rory sniffed. "What's in the bag?"

"Bag?" Lorelai shifted the object in question behind her.

"The bag I've already seen, making your attempt to hide it lame and futile."

"I'm not hiding it. I'm distributing its weight so I don't go stumbling around like a pubescent teen." Lorelai mumbled as they fell into step and exited the front yard.

As they walked, they greeted fellow townspeople, prompting the usual witty, rapid-fire exchange on the many quirky nuances of small town life. It was only when they neared Luke's that Lorelai grew uncharacteristically quiet and pensive. Casting her mother a sideways glance, Rory risked life and limb by broaching a recently unbroachable subject. "I feel I must comment on your Luke-inspired, weird-as-of-late behavior."

Weird. The word haunted Lorelai, spilled like poison from the lips of her only child. Was there no end to its plague? "I should lock you in the attic."

"What?" Rory blinked innocently, slowing her steps to compensate for Lorelai's sudden foot-dragging.

"Why should I feel weird because of Luke?" Lorelai asked, more herself than Rory. "Luke and I are cool. Well…we _were_ cool until I started to really ponder the coolness. But he gave me a chuppah! You don't whittle on a log for hours for someone unless you're cool with said someone, right?"

"You talkin' to me?"

"But, like an idiot, I pondered and I'm thinking Luke might not be as cool with everything as he seems to be…or maybe I'm the one not cool with things. Cause that _thing _thing you were talking about? Deep down I knew it was true and now prepare yourself I think I have a thing for him too."

"Nooo…really?" Rory deadpanned.

"So I'm thinking, given the pondering, that I might have hurt my best friend."

"I thought _I_ was your best friend?"

"You're my best _girlfriend_."

"Where does that leave Sookie?"

"How bout I lock you in the attic and a less annoying daughter take your place?"

"I'm just sayin'."

They'd reached the diner door and Lorelai paused to peer inside, eyes following Luke's progress as he wiped down tables, poured coffee, and barked orders. Then, as if bravely facing a Friday night dinner, Lorelai squared her shoulders and entered. Was it her imagination or did everyone's gaze swing her way? Did these people not have lives? Was the utterly pee-inducing fear of facing Luke written all over her face?

"Hey, Luke." Rory greeted breezily, taking a seat at the table he'd just cleared.

"Rory, Lorelai." He nodded, turning to refill a coffee mug. "Be with you in a minute."

Watching him intently as he moved away, Lorelai sat down, then quickly popped up, threw a "be back" to Rory over her shoulder, and followed Luke to the counter. He noticed her while stuffing tips into a jar. She propped her shopping bag on the end of the counter and stood silently, a too-bright smile plastered on her face, knuckles gleaming white from the death-grip she had on the shopping bag's handles. Luke cocked a questioning brow and Mount Lorelai erupted.

"You know what I was saying to myself this morning? Why bother making my own coffee when I can ascend to java heaven at Luke's? I am so jonesing for a cup of Luke's coffee more than any other day _ever_." Awkward chuckle. "Like…_ever_."

Filling a mug with coffee, Luke carefully slid it to her.

"You are a wonder." Lorelai enthused as she raised the mug to her nose an inhaled dramatically. She reached for the cream, her concentration momentarily consumed by the immensely important task of adding it to her coffee, before she continued. "_Sooo_…"

"_Sooo_…" Luke mimicked.

"_Sooo_…I was shopping yesterday and I see some stuff that reminded me of you and I just had to buy them. Because you're my friend and special and all that and even though life is tremendously busy, I never forget my Luke."

"Uh huh." Luke's gaze lowered to the shopping bag as Lorelai abandoned her coffee and dug out a hideously green flannel shirt.

"This caught my eye…it is just _you_. I've never seen you in this color and the style fits that whole George-Michael-Meets-The-Brawny-Man thing you've got going on."

"I _was_ in desperate need of evening wear."

"And look!" Lorelai pulled out a large box. "A very state-of-the-art, manly tool. N-not…that sort of tool…I mean…a fixing-things tool. I don't know what it does, but Bert will love it."

"What's going on, Lorelai?" Luke wanted to know, propping his palms on the counter.

"Can't I buy my friend gifts without getting the third degree?" She playfully punched his shoulder, then fidgeted sheepishly at Luke's blank stare.

"I don't have time to figure out why you're more scatter-brained than usual, but I'm guessing it's due to the keg of coffee you probably had before you came here so..." Stuffing the gifts back in the bag, he placed it beneath the counter. "…thanks. Ready to order?"

"Yeah…um…waffle special please." Lorelai picked up her mug, hesitated. "Oh…hey, Luke? The front porch steps are loose and so's the rail. Poor Rory almost took a nosedive this morning."

He yelled out their order to the cook before turning to her again. "Maybe Max should fix it."

Lorelai flinched, as if he'd popped her a good one. "Come again?"

Stepping closer, his arm brushing feather-light against her breast, he answered in a hushed tone. "You think your future husband would like another man fixing his future wife's things?"

"I…never thought about it…that way."

"Maybe you should."

"I don't think Max even knows what a hammer is."

Luke straightened. "I'll bring Rory coffee."

A bit stung by his dismissal, Lorelai reluctantly made her way back to the table, turning a couple of times along the way to glance miserably at Luke, oblivious to the knowing looks of the other diner patrons. Luke delivered the promised coffee and their breakfast, all the while ignoring her while sharing jokes and small talk with Rory, Kirk, hell _everyone_ save Lorelai. She barely touched her breakfast but made sure Luke worked his ass off by begging for three refills, condiments she didn't need, and another fork cause hers looked streaky. When it became impossible to linger any longer, she paid their bill and ushered Rory outside.

"Did you see how he ignored me?" Lorelai hissed, glaring at Luke through the diner window. "What did I do? Or not do? Do I smell? Is there a huge "Ignore Lorelai" sign on my back?"

"You're obsessing, Mom." Rory rolled her eyes. "Luke was Luke."

Luke was most definitely not Luke, Lorelai seethed.

And the weirdness abounds.


	2. Chapter Two

Tucking his order pad in the front of his jeans, Luke began to clear the table Lorelai and Rory had vacated, very aware of the crazy woman scowling at him from outside the diner. Ten seconds he'd give her to vacate his sidewalk or he was going out there, turning her over his knee, and delivering a couple of whacks to that perfect ass of hers. She was gone in five.

He didn't like being pitied, especially with some of Stars Hollows more chatty residents present to witness Lorelai showering him with what amounted to condolence prizes. Apparently the chuppah and the talk and the fact that he hadn't flung himself onto the grill hadn't been enough to convince her nor anyone else that he was fine. And hell no, he wasn't fine, but he wasn't about to let anyone know how he truly felt. The day he admitted to being disgusted with himself for not going after Lorelai when he had the chance was the day he'd really fling himself onto the grill.

Damn women. No, damn _Lorelai_. She was too abnormally batty to be lumped in with the rest of the female species.

"Luke." Kirk bolted from his table to Luke's side, slapped him on the back, demeanor sympathetic and ripe for male bonding. "How ya doin' buddy?"

Luke stiffened. "Ready to pay and leave, Kirk? Please pay and leave."

Lowering his voice, Kirk inched closer. "I don't usually involve myself in the personal matter of others..."

"Don't. I'm beggin' ya."

"...but I thought you might welcome a different perspective on your situation with Lorelai."

Unbelievable. "You giving _me_ advice on women?"

"Well...yes."

"You live with your _mother_. She lays out your clothes for you."

"That's unusually cruel, even for you."

"Out." Luke growled, not waiting to see if Kirk obeyed his command as he stalked to the kitchen, dirty plates and black mood in tow. Even the most pathetic creature in town pitied him and it was his own damn fault. He went running whenever Lorelai crooked a finger at him. Let her sweet talk him into painting his diner. Allowed her and _only her _to stick rummage sale signs in his window. Could a man be whipped without actually having been whipped? He should just tattoo her name on his ass and own it.

"Luke, honey." Miss Patty glided to the counter as he emerged from the kitchen.

"Yeah, Miss Patty." Luke pinched the bridge of his nose and steeled himself for more madness. "What can I do for you?"

"We haven't had a chance to talk in ages."

"Something on your mind?"

"Just wanted to chat, find out how you're doing, that sort of thing." Miss Patty smiled, patting his hand, huge boobs spilling over the countertop. "How about dinner? Al's? Eight-thirty good for you?"

"You're asking me out to dinner?"

"Yes, you precious man."

"You've never asked me out to dinner. You hittin' on me?"

"Just humor me." Miss Patty scowled impatiently.

If he humored her, maybe she'd leave. Get across to her that he wasn't brooding over Lorelai so she could spread the word. "Dinner. Al's. Eight-thirty."

"Wonderful! Now on the off chance that I don't show up, there may be someone there to take my place."

"Excuse me?"

"She's the mother of one of my new students. Sweet as can be." Miss Patty enthused. "The poor thing's just been through a nasty divorce, but she's not at all bitter."

"This day just keeps getting better." Luke muttered.

"She's tall, dark-haired, gorgeous blue eyes, but her resemblance to Lorelai is purely coincidental."

"Bye, Miss Patty." Luke made for the sanctuary of the storage room.

"But, Luke..."

Right now, flinging himself on the grill sounded pretty good. He paced and took several deep breaths, attempting to get his anger under control before going back into the fray. As soon as he turned to go back into the diner, Kirk poked his head around the corner.

"Uh...Luke?"

"For the love of...you want me to belt you one, Kirk?"

The wiry man eased inside the storage room and took up a defensive stance next to the pickles. "I have a proposition for you."

"Jesus..." Luke rummaged for aspirin.

"I've noticed that there are several areas of your diner's operation in which you could use my expertise."

"You bumming for a job?"

"Applying." Kirk corrected, whipping out a bright orange sheet of paper. "My résumé."

Luke snatched the sheet, balled it up and tossed it in a corner. "Not hiring."

"I'm willing to offer my services on a trial basis until you make up your mind."

"Countin' to ten, Kirk."

"See you tomorrow."

Blessedly alone, Luke downed several aspirin, sans water, then began slinging boxes around in a half-hearted attempt to organize the storage room. They were all insane. Demented. Like a cast of evil, kooky characters in a Stephen King novel. Somewhere buried beneath the town square was a demonic force, feeding off the energy of the Stars Hollow zealots, waiting for the day when it could pounce and swallow alive the whole stinking town.

Screw everyone...he needed to get away. He'd blow this hellhole, go fishing, get drunk, have a meaningless one night stand with a woman no where near tall, dark-haired and blue-eyed. He was out of there.

As soon as he fixed Lorelai's porch.


	3. Chapter Three

"What smells so good?"

Turning as Rory entered the kitchen, Lorelai beamed and gestured grandly towards the cookie sheet she'd just pulled from the oven. "I made breakfast!"

"No!" Rory marveled at perfectly baked croissants.

"Yeah, just popped open a can and there they are."

"Yummy...hot bread."

"_And_ Lucky Charms."

"Get back, Martha Stewart."

Lorelai buzzed around the kitchen, pouring coffee, placing the food on the table, ignoring her daughter's knowing look.

"I guess it's a good thing you're avoiding Luke's." Rory observed as she joined Lorelai at the table.

Incoherent mumble.

"Cause you were a complete flake yesterday."

"Well, I don't believe in doing things half-ass."

"And you're having second thoughts about marrying Max." Rory accused gently.

"Oh come on."

"I'm only drawing my conclusion from this mutual thing you have for Luke."

"I don't have a mutual thing for Luke."

"You admitted it."

"I said I _might _have a thing for Luke." Lorelai snapped, plunging her spoon into her Lucky Charms. "_Might_, meaning a probability or possibility of having a thing for Luke, not _definitely_ having a thing."

"I just want you to be sure about Max. This doesn't affect only you."

"I'm sure." Lorelai mumbled around a mouthful of cereal.

"I like him." Rory rambled on. "I've finally reached the point where I'm not freaking out because my teacher is going to be my stepfather. You seemed happy, and if you're happy, I'm happy, but if you're not sure --"

"I'm _sure_, Rory, I swear. It was just, you know, pre pre-wedding nerves and the town thinking Luke has a thing for me and my thong was on backwards."

"Oh...uh..."

With a sigh, Lorelai dropped her forehead to the table.

"Aww." Rory soothed fingers into her mother's thick hair. "Maybe we're wrong. I mean, if Luke were really that into you, he would have done something about it a long time ago."

Lorelai lifted her head, slightly irritated by that possibility. Flashing back to the rare occasions when Luke had actually seemed on the verge of asking her out, she wondered if maybe the attraction she'd thought was there hadn't been there at all. "You think?"

"I definitely think. Luke is no Duckie Dale."

"Jake Ryan?"

"With a hint of Darry Curtis."

Satisfied that Lorelai was again on firm wedding footing, Rory began recounting her latest woes involving Paris and a Chilton community project. And though her thoughts frequently wandered to Luke, Lorelai was able to form enough interested responses to keep her clueless. By the time Rory left for the bus stop, the gift-giving debacle was a surreal mind trip, looping repeatedly in excruciating detail. Noise from the front yard pulled her back into the present. The intermittent sounds of hammering sent fresh guilt and a strange sense of relief and elation slicing through her. She crept through the house to the foyer, where a peek out the frost-stained window confirmed that Luke had come to repair the porch steps.

Luke. Reliable and forgiving, despite her lunacy.

Hand on the doorknob, Lorelai was torn between the need to see him and hiding. She chose the latter, cowardly fleeing upstairs. One day she'd have the ovaries to look Luke Danes in the eye and not feel like dung on the bottom of his shoes, but not today. She lingered in the shower until her fingers were prunes, dressed and undressed three times before settling on an outfit, and then, all kinds of late, rushed back downstairs into the kitchen.

And found Luke. Sprawled patiently in a chair, a crowbar propped across his thighs, he watched as Lorelai skidded to a halt in front of him and let out a startled yelp.

"Jeez!" She hissed, fisting her blouse above her thumping heart. "How'd you get in here?"

"The lock on your back door is broken. Again. Could've sworn I fixed it already."

"Er...you did."

"So you demolished it too?"

"Demolished? Too?" Lorelai played dumb, not a stretch considering the dim-witted stunts she'd been pulling. Deliberately sabotaging the porch to make Luke feel needed was now fast overtaking the gift-giving debacle. If not for Morey and Babette's subsequent appearances this morning, followed closely by Rory's, she would have had time to hide the evidence of her stupidity.

Carefully laying the crowbar across the table, Luke stood and slayed her with a hushed, but fierce, "You're certifiable."

"We talkin' Joan Crawford or Hannibal Lecter?" Lorelai cracked defensively as he brushed past her, but Luke was not amused. Grasping his forearm to keep him from leaving, she planted herself in front of him, blue eyes beseeching. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm a shmuck."

Hopes were dashed when he made no acknowledgement of the apology. Luke just stared, gaze censuring, and Lorelai could only stare back as she dug fingers into his skin, stifled by a rare loss for words. Vaguely she heard him muttering something about Miss Patty and desperate divorcees, felt hands splaying just below her breasts and being tugged forward and then...lips, cool and firm and stupor-inducing. Prickly stubble and moist tongue and an oh-so-nice chest beneath her fingers. She was slow to respond to the blessed relief of four years of sexual tension until Luke molded her against the fridge and himself to Lorelai, thigh snug between hers and fingers dipping beneath the waistband of her mini-skirt. Clarity came too late, however, and she only was only able to engage in a brief moment of delicious reciprocation. Just as quickly as he'd grabbed her, Luke released Lorelai and retreated a few steps, his dazed expression a perfect compliment to hers. A witty or sexually charged remark often came easily after a man kissed her that way, but hell, this wasn't just a man, it was Luke.

_Luke!_

Recovering first, he put even more distance between them as he pivoted and grabbed up Bert, stalking out of the kitchen as he growled, "I'll be back to fix the sink."

"The sink?" Lorelai blinked, hands still groping for the pecs that had been there just a second ago, noticing for the first time the water pooling ominously around the base of the faucet. She took a faltering step forward, intent on going after Luke and demanding either a reason for the kiss or another kiss period when Luke appeared again.

"This is mine." He stated calmly as he retrieved the crowbar. Hesitation slowed his movement as he seemed to struggle for words, then changed his mind and turned away.

Lorelai watched him leave and waited until she heard the front door slam shut before slumping against the fridge, still savoring the lingering Luke flavor on her lips and marveling at this new curve ball life had pitched her.


	4. Chapter Four

Because the world wasn't off kilter enough, Kirk was now waiting tables at the diner. The town nebbish darted through the throng of patrons, sloshing coffee into mugs, reciting breakfast specials, and spilling a plate of waffles into Taylor's lap.

"Luke's gone mad." Lorelai marveled as she and Rory entered, pausing to observe the bedlam. A cursory sweep of the diner yielded no Luke and her good mood deflated. Not a word from him in two days and he'd been a no show at last night's engagement party. Then again, why would he come around when things were left so awkward between them?

Kirk marched up, crisp in white shirt and trousers, the order pad in his waistband dangerously close to slipping into the unknown. "Welcome to Luke's! Party of?"

"Three." Lorelai smirked. Kirk was always good for a laugh. "Max is joining us."

"Everyone must be present to be seated."

"Slip him a twenty, Mom."

"Not necessary. A glowing report to my employer will suffice." Kirk's head did an unnatural snapping thing as he glanced over his shoulder. He waved them towards a table and disappeared, returning with mugs and a coffeepot. "Might I suggest our new specialty blend, three-fourths decaf and one-fourth caffeinated?"

"Uh…no." Lorelai grimaced.

"Very well, what'll you have?"

"Mind if we wait for Max? He's on a newspaper hunt."

"Max has to have his three papers in the morning." Rory offered. "The Hartford Chronicle, the New York Times, and the Wall Street Journal."

"Hmm." Kirk whipped out a small recorder, pressed a button and intoned, "Objective thirty-six. Explore the possibility of offering newspapers to our customers."

"And _coffee_." Lorelai prompted.

Kirk scurried away and returned with another pot.

"By the way, where _is_ Luke?"

"In the storeroom. If he asks, you haven't seen me, but I was an excellent waiter." They watched in fascination as he skulked away, gave the diner another neurotic scan, and then crept into the kitchen.

"What the hell?" Lorelai's dark brows knitted as she stood.

"Scary." Rory shuddered. "Where're you going?"

"Oh, I want to find out if Luke got the wedding invitation." Lorelai told her, pleased and disgusted with her ability to lie so smoothly. "Be right back."

Luke was hurriedly gathering up supplies when Lorelai stepped inside the storeroom. A flicker of residual emotions from their encounter played across his face before indifference settled in. "Hey."

"Hey." A sudden surge of courage spurred her to blurt, "You missed my engagement party last night."

"I was busy." He fibbed, not even slightly remorseful about doing so.

"Uh huh. So, I see you've hired a new waiter."

Slamming a box on top of the pile, Luke hissed a very nasty expletive. "That…_nut_. He's auditioning for a job. I chase him away and he sneaks back in when I'm not looking, swears once I witness his incredible prowess at turning tables I'll be begging him to work for me, but it ain't happening." Hoisting the supplies, he attempted to maneuver around her, but Lorelai was firmly planted in his path. "You mind? I gotta get in there; he's already spilled sugar in the toaster and dropped Gypsy's breakfast in her lap."

"Wow, he's two for two." Lorelai chuckled before growing serious again. "I just need a minute."

Shifting his load, Luke reluctantly relented. "Make it quick."

Now that she had the floor, Lorelai found herself at another baffling loss for words, a habit becoming repulsively common when he was near. She'd agonized over this conversation all night, rehearsed everything she was going to say while shaving her legs this morning and then…_damn_! Discussing intimacy with Luke was embarrassing as hell.

"Lorelai." Luke shook his head, tone brimming with regret. "Don't."

"Don't what?"

"It was a stupid impulse. Won't happen again."

Quite a blow to her fragile female psyche. What she had considered a profound moment was deemed insignificant by him and now Lorelai was a tad pissed. "You _are_ talking about the way you manhandled me in my kitchen?"

"What manhandling?" Her pissed-offness triggered his. "You liked it."

Luke could be a dick.

"It was a mistake, it's over, let's leave it at that." He edged past her.

Lorelai snagged a handful of flannel and tugged him around. "You've known me for what, five years, and just yesterday you get the impulse to kiss me? A kiss like that is not an impulse, it's something that's been building for say, five years. You dismiss it as nothing and expect me to be fine with 'it was a mistake'?"

"You're a piece of work. I try to give you an out and you won't take it. What do you want me to say?"

_That you have feelings for me. You don't want me to marry Max._

"I have no idea."

"Then let it go."

Biting her lip, Lorelai forced back frustrated tears. _He _was a piece of work, a gorgeous asshole who had turned her into a loon. "_You_ started this."

"I shouldn't have touched you and I apologize. We done?"

"I need an explanation."

"For why I kissed you?"

"Yes."

"Was Rory a virgin birth?"

Oh, he'd done it now. Lorelai's lips trembled and eyes welled up in a way that promised a serious deluge, prompting Luke to let loose another round of four-letter stunners. "God save me from nerds and crazy women. Think about it, Lorelai. Is this something you really want to be discussing, because it could lead to all kinds of mayhem."

Mayhem of a sexual nature, he meant. A fierce attraction was surging around them despite the tension, or because of it. He was right. They shouldn't be discussing this.

"You're getting married." He gently reminded.

Yes she was. She was marrying Max because she was crazy about him and he was a million times more sensitive than Luke Danes. "I know."

Nodding, he motioned for her to move and Lorelai obliged, intensely dissatisfied that the issue remained unsettled, at least for her. She followed him back into the diner, reluctant to break contact, lingering as she watched him store supplies behind the counter. "Did you get my wedding invitation?"

"Got it." He slammed a box into place.

It took her a moment to work up the courage to ask, "Are you coming?"

Wordlessly, he retreated into the kitchen. And that was her answer. Seconds later Kirk came hurtling out, Luke in hot pursuit as they exited the diner. Only then did Lorelai notice Max, sitting with Rory and eyeing Lorelai with what looked like suspicion. Hurrying over, she pressed a placating kiss to his cheek. "Find your papers?"

"They didn't have the Wall Street Journal." Max groused, a bit more annoying than usual.

Sipping tepid coffee, Lorelai watched Luke through the window. He was arguing with Taylor now and a small crowd had gathered to watch workmen installing a street light. Progress was settling her fat ass right in front of his diner and he was not pleased.

"Ooh." Rory's eyes rounded as Taylor's face beamed beet red. "This is gonna be good."

Max chuckled as he watched her hurry outside. "Never a dull moment in Stars Hollow."

"Yeah." Lorelai reluctantly smiled as Luke launched into what looked to be one of his more stellar rages.

Seeking her attention, Max reached for her hand across the table and affectionately squeezed it between his palms. "You know how much I love you?"

The smile dimmed a little. "Yeah."


	5. Chapter Five

The red Led Zeppelin T-shirt exposed an obscene amount of cleavage and screamed sex. But the powder blue knit enhanced the color of Lorelai's eyes and clung with enticing modesty to the torso. And why was she standing semi-naked in her bedroom agonizing over what to wear?

Because Luke was coming over. To fix her disposal, but he was coming over. Two weeks of carefully orchestrated avoidance by both of them had been too much for Lorelai. She'd stormed into the diner that morning and pestered and cajoled and made an ass of herself until Luke was smiling grudgingly again. With care, their friendship could be restored to previous form, yet Lorelai still jeopardized everything because she couldn't seem to stifle her attraction to him. So she ceased her primping, threw on a ratty gray sweatshirt with jeans, and left the room before succumbing to the temptation of lip gloss.

Downstairs Rory primped with abandon in the hallway mirror. Eyeing her mother, she clucked her tongue disapprovingly and returned to tweaking her hair. "I'll be glad when Max gets back. Schlepping around the house like that on a Saturday night is so pathetic."

"Please, we're practically married. It's back to scratching my ass and not shaving my armpits. Where are you and the pretty boy off to?"

"_Giant's_ playing at the bookstore." Rory replied, slipping on a jacket as she followed Lorelai into the kitchen. "Wanna come with?"

"Go on a date with my teenage daughter and her boyfriend? Even more pathetic than schlepping around like this on a Saturday night."

Rory watched as her mother rummaged through the fridge. "You just seem so lonely since Max's been gone."

Actually she hadn't missed Max much at all, a startling revelation Lorelai decided to keep to herself.

"That'll be Dean." Rory announced when the doorbell sounded, practically skipping from the room. A moment later, she called to Lorelai. "We're gone, Mom!"

"Hi, Lorelai! Bye, Lorelai!" Dean's greeting echoed into the kitchen.

"Yeah, hi…bye…you two have fun!" Lorelai shouted back, opening a container of Chinese food to take a whiff. Grimacing, she shoved it back inside the fridge and took her search for sustenance elsewhere. She was munching on a bag of stale cheese puffs when the doorbell chimed again. As she passed the hallway mirror, she refrained from taking a peek and mentally patted herself on the back.

A cool spring breeze and the scent of deep fried goodness wafted inside when she answered the door. Luke was there. Not the ornery Luke who couldn't be bothered with her a couple of weeks ago, but the Luke who fixed her house, made her coffee, and shot her devastating smiles like the one he wore now. Even better, he was holding a brown paper bag that just had to be her dinner. "Hey."

"Hey, you." Lorelai beamed and stepped aside, warmth and a wee bit of giddiness rushing through her. "You brought me a burger."

"With fries, two brownies, and a slice of apple pie." He handed over the bag as he moved passed her and slid off his jacket.

"You are a god." Kicking the door shut, she immediately snagged a couple of fries as she led him into the kitchen. "I really appreciate you fixing the disposal. One day I'm going to start paying you."

"She said for the umpteenth time." Luke crouched in front of the sink, placing his toolbox on the floor beside him.

At the table Lorelai spread out her dinner. "Did I mention the washer makes a clanging sound during the spin cycle?"

"Is that all you've annihilated since the last time I was here?"

"And the vacuum cleaner ate my pantyhose."

"There you go."

The first bite of burger drew a divine sigh from Lorelai. "You are the most amazing man on the planet. Oh. You brought me carrots? You're kidding, right?"

"It was worth a shot."

Grinning, Lorelai stuffed three fries in her mouth and admired the way Luke's jeans stretched across his ass. Then silently reprimanded herself for the slip. But surely there was no harm in letting him know she was glad he was there. "I missed ya', you know."

Beneath the sink, Luke was silent, the only sound the clang of metal on metal.

"I said I missed you."

"Yeah, well…" Came the sheepish reply.

"Especially your fruitless efforts to feed me healthy crap." Lorelai teased and then paused, frowning as she chewed thoughtfully. "Wait…this is…is this a turkey burger?"

"Uh…"

"It is! You sneaky bastard, you fed me turkey!"

"You wolfed down half of it before you even realized it was turkey."

"I don't think I'll ever recover from this betrayal." Lorelai took another bite and shrugged. "Not bad. Tastes like it could've once been red and bloody."

For the next hour, she shadowed him as he made repairs, catching up on his latest battle with Taylor and regaling him with Michel's antics at the inn. When he successfully removed her pantyhose from the vacuum and declared the belt still good, Lorelai wondered if she could sabotage the dryer without arousing his suspicion. The loneliness she hadn't felt with Max's absence was creeping up on her as Luke made ready to leave.

"I guess you have to get back to the diner."

"Actually, Caesar's closing. And Kirk's probably there."

"You hired him?" Lorelai asked incredulously.

"Got tired of chasing him away. I'm hoping the lack of paycheck will run him off for good." Luke closed the toolbox and stood.

"So the diner's covered. Stay and keep me company."

He wanted to. His eyes lit up at the offer, but things were still fragile between them and thank God he was the more sensible of the two. "I don't know."

"Come on, Luke. Rory's out with Dean and I'd love the company. I've got a fridge full of beer and I'm sure I can find a baseball game on TV for you."

"I don't know."

"Or we could watch a movie. Or…ooh…play five-card draw. Here's your chance to kick my ass."

"I can't."

Deflated, she smiled anyway. "Oh…okay. Maybe another time."

Despite his decision, he was reluctant to leave. Bert was shifted from one hand to another as Luke stood gazing at her with an expression equally as smitten as hers. "Maybe just a little while."

Lorelai was floating. "So you want that beer?"

"Beer's good."

"Park Bert and I'll be right back."

In the kitchen, she hurried to the fridge, shoved aside the imported beer Max was partial to and grabbed a more popular American brew. As she popped the top, she peered at her reflection in the metal handle of the refrigerator door and reared back. Too late to do anything about that, she sighed as she returned to the living room.

Luke looked pretty on her sofa, Lorelai decided as she settled next to him. Luke was pretty _period_. While he was kicking her ass at cards, she noticed all sorts of little to-die-for features she hadn't appreciated before, like his hands, the long eyelashes, and the crinkles edging the corner of his eyes when he smiled. And all that came with good food, killer coffee, and nice broad shoulders to cry on. What was wrong with her? Why hadn't she scooped him up years ago? Why hadn't he ever asked her out?

The questions continued to torment her as they watched an old Hitchcock movie, Luke draped across one end of the sofa and Lorelai reclining on the other. Both were quiet, immersed in their own thoughts, but the silence was companionable and right. Just as Raymond Burr began knocking Grace Kelly around, the agonizing questions propelled Lorelai to seek answers.

"Luke." She nudged him with her foot.

"This is gettin' kinda good." He told her pointedly.

"Why didn't you ever ask me out?"

Frowning, his eyes remained fixed on the movie, blue light from the screen flickering over his suddenly tense features.

The foot poked more insistently. "Why didn't you ever, you know, act on our attraction? Before I got engaged."

"There _was _no attraction."

Such idiotic denial. He was as bad as she was. "Must I list our moments for you?"

"You couldn't be satisfied that we were speaking without the awkward crap piled on, you just had to screw things up again."

"Sookie and Jackson's blind date, we were playing cards? There was a phenomenal vibe."

"How did I not notice how annoying you are?"

"There was the time I helped you paint the diner and we almost came to gropes behind the counter."

"Or how you can ruin a good time with your delusional babbling?"

"When my dad got sick. How about the time you actually got jealous cause that Chilton dad asked me out?" Lorelai was enjoying watching him squirm. Even as warning bells reverberated in her head, she kept pushing. "You seemed as if you wanted to ask me out a couple of times, but you choked."

"I didn't choke." Exasperated, he gave into her need to talk about the delicate subject. "I didn't want things to get weird if we didn't work out."

"Yeah, there's that." Lorelai murmured, sinking further into the cushions as she tucked cold toes beneath his warm thigh. Dangerous ground to be treading, but she couldn't resist saying, "I wonder what it would have been like."

Luke took a swig of beer, contemplated for a moment. "Probably pretty good. Until I screwed it up, 'cause let's face it, I suck at relationships."

"God…me too."

"Not anymore. You're getting married." He reminded her for the second time in as many weeks, a little sadly this time. They lapsed into uncomfortable silence and then Luke leaned forward and placed his empty bottle on the coffee table. "I should go."

"Luke." She said softly, lifting her leg to curve it about his waist and tug him gently toward her. The unfulfilled sexual tension was wearing her thin, she was tired of tormenting herself over him, and she desperately wanted him to stay. What harm could come of a simple kiss? Luke wasn't having any of it, though. His elbows were firmly planted on his knees, hands clasped in front of him in a tight ball, head bowed as he struggled to ignore the pink-tipped toe stroking his hip.

"Lorelai." Luke growled a warning.

_Heed the warning_, Lorelai admonished silently, even as she continued urging him toward her. To his credit, Luke did make a last, half-hearted effort to resist. Even took his time easing his body over hers, as if trying to give one of them a chance to come to their senses. And then Luke came undone, slashing his mouth over hers, pinning her arms over her head and Lorelai wondered how she could have forgotten how luscious his lips were and how good that stubble felt rubbing into her skin. His lips and tongue were doing the most incredible tricks and so completely obliterating that first kiss with one that had her wanting to snatch his clothes off. And she _was_ snatching his clothes off, she realized, or trying to as she yanked up his shirt, the T-shirt beneath it and slid her fingers along taut skin.

Luke had the most incredible fingers too. They dipped and swirled and plucked and seduced a girl into doing bold things, like undoing his fly and slipping her hand into heaven. Off came Lorelai's cumbersome sweatshirt and her bra quickly followed and then there was hot breath and moist lips on her breasts and prickly stubble rasping repeatedly over and between them. They slid to the floor as Luke slid off her jeans and Lorelai almost…_almost_…stopped him because, damn, Rory could come home at any moment. But those incredible fingers found their way into her panties and just to hell with everything.

Vaguely, Lorelai heard things crashing and herself failing miserably at not disturbing the neighbors. They struggled to shed the rest of their clothes and when they did…delicious. Plunging, undulating hips and those fingers and lips…those fingers. The floor was killing her back and her bottom would be good and bruised in the morning, but Lorelai was in profound bliss. And afterward, when Luke's soothing weight sank into her and Lorelai was happily contemplating taking up permanent residence underneath him, she still refused to think about what a horrible person she was and the consequences of what she'd done.

Bliss.


	6. Chapter Six

Being loved by Lorelai Gilmore firmly eclipsed every major event in Luke's life. Wrapped in a sweet-scented cocoon of long limbs and soft skin, he was overwhelmed by feelings of elation, fulfillment and very intense possessiveness. Unfortunately, all that joy was being tempered by rising uncertainty. If Lorelai remained true to form, she would begin to regret everything right about now.

But when he lifted his head, Lorelai was radiant. Glowing. Content. All those sappy adjectives used to describe a woman emotionally and physically satisfied after an energetic round of great sex. Her smile and the impish spark in her blue eyes drew a reciprocal smile from Luke and he thought they must look a sight, coiled naked and grinning like lovesick teens on her living room floor amid hastily discarded clothes, scattered cards and empty beer bottles. Lorelai's expression softened into one so adoring Luke was floored by it. And seeing as he could barely form coherent words when she was intentionally or unintentionally fanning his secret devotion, he could do no more than hold her closer and rest his forehead against hers with a I'm-so-whipped sigh. Not even the inopportune ringing of the phone could break the quiet moment of connection. Not until the Max's voice echoed from the answering machine.

"Hey, it's me. Make sure Rory's not around to hear this, I don't want her regurgitating while I wax lyrical about how much I miss you."

And wax lyrical he did. Reality effectively dashed cold water onto the interlude. Luke rolled off Lorelai, savoring for just a millisecond that erotic sensation of sliding out of her, before snatching up his clothes. Max droned on, each heartfelt sentiment like a cleaver hacking at their consciences, and both Luke and Lorelai expelled twin sighs of relief when the call finally ended. The air was so ripe with remorse it became a morbid, suffocating stench that shamed them both. Luke began shoving haphazard sofa cushions into place, mentally kicking his own ass for his lack of morals. Could you be over the moon one moment and horrified the next? Cause that's how he felt now that he didn't have naked Lorelai writhing beneath him, obliterating his better judgement. And then he turned just as she was bending over in those too tiny panties and he wanted to beat his chest in triumph. Years of torturing himself imagining that perfect ass sans the painted on denim and he should feel guilty?

Yes he should.

"Ooh..._Psycho._ Did you know that Hitchcock didn't have a belly button?" Lorelai prattled, breathless from wiggling into her wrinkled sweats. "I mean of _course_ he was born with a belly button, but later in life he supposedly had a series of mysterious operations that left him without a navel. They say it's just a wild urban legend but seriously, it _would_ explain the weird symbolism of the gratuitous navel close ups in the shower scene. Didn't it look as if Anthony Hopkins was aiming for Janet Leigh's navel?"

Sex was a delightfully effective method of silencing Lorelai, but not an option Luke could explore at the moment.

"Did I thank you for dinner?" She struggled to right the coffee table and Luke rushed to help her. "And for fixing the vacuum and the disposal?"

"And the washer, yes you thanked me." Luke dropped with her to the floor to scoop up the cards and beer bottles. He was all for ignoring the elephant in the room, but he longed to put her at ease. The jittery demeanor and watery voice warned of an impending meltdown. Once the remnants of their idiocy were cleared away, he pressed fingers into the small of her back and gently steered her towards the kitchen. "Got anything stronger than beer?"

Lorelai snorted. "No need to get me drunk now. I'm easy, couldn't you tell? Fix something…my clothes'll hit the floor faster than you can say 'whore'."

Stymied for comforting words, Luke seated her at the kitchen table. In the fridge, he probed through a sea of take-out cartons and spied a half-empty bottle of vodka behind a jug of curdling milk. Hard liquor wasn't his thing, but he poured them each a glass and placed one in front of a now quietly brooding Lorelai. They drained the bottle in strained silence, enthralled by the Betty Boop tumblers and the tablecloth's pattern.

God this was hard.

"So…Rory should be home soon?" Luke ventured, finally brave enough to look Lorelai's way.

Startled, her eyes flew to the microwave clock and her whole face was wrought with such sadness, it sent fierce pain shooting through Luke.

"Rory. I forgot all about her." Lorelai pressed her face into her hands, fingers flexing against her temples as if warding off a migraine. "She could have walked in on us. What was I thinking? She's so jazzed about Max being her stepdad. What was I _thinking_?"

Luke ached for her. More than understood where she was coming from. But actually hearing her voice regret cut him deep. And realizing how insensitive she sounded, Lorelai winced. " I didn't mean it the way it sounded."

"You did. But it's okay."

She reached for his hand, but he pulled away in time, rising to return to the living room, where he shrugged on his jacket and retrieved his toolbox. Nervous energy had Lorelai hooking together the buttons and nearly choking him as she fastened them up to his neck. "Can't we talk about this?"

"No."

"Please."

"_No_."

"I need to fix this."

"Then maybe you should drop the pretense and just say it."

"Say what?"

"You know. 'It was a mistake' or one of the other after-sex platitudes people use to free themselves from the messy ramifications of meaningless sex, 'I was drunk' and 'I've got to get up early' being the most popular."

"Luke..."

"Or we could discuss it ad nauseam and risk Rory walking in on us."

"Right." Lorelai conceded. "Well…tomorrow?"

"What's the point?"

"I don't want to lose you."

"Lose _me_? You have Max."

"That's not what I meant."

"He doesn't deserve this. He's a good guy, at least you and Rory think so."

"He is, but you and me…"

"I have to get up early."

She did that little moue that he'd always found cute and annoying, but Luke remained steadfast, nearly tripping down the porch steps as he rushed away from the Gilmore home.

The diner was secure when he returned, but Caesar's prowess at closing didn't prevent a wound tight Luke from double and triple checking everything before finally going up to his morose apartment. He sought refuge in the shower, hot water stinging away all that Lorelai goodness and dispersing the cloudiness of the vodka. But his mind was still full to bursting with her by the time he finally fell into bed. At two a.m., he was still agonizingly awake. Bedclothes and pillows littered the floor where he'd tossed them in frustration and his head rang with a nasty migraine. He was on the edge of mercifully passing out when the phone trilled and Luke knew immediately who it was.

"Yeah?"

Silence filled the connection, but Luke was patient, knowing Lorelai needed time to get out what she wanted to say.

"I just wanted you to know, it wasn't a mistake."

_Yes_. Earlier elation returned, though it was a bit more subdued. "It wasn't a mistake."

"Bad timing."

"Yeah."

"And we weren't…careful."

"Jesus…"

"Don't worry, I'm covered. Disease and baby free."

Luke sighed with relief. Although he might not have minded a kid with her, he certainly didn't want one under the circumstances.

"Just give me a little time."

"Time for what?"

"I don't know."

Luke tried not to push, tried not to be hopeful that the time she needed meant being with her wasn't impossible. "See you in the morning?"

He could hear the smile in her voice. "See you in the morning."


	7. Chapter Seven

A whore in a desperately plunging sweater smiled at Luke as he refilled her coffee. For the third time, Lorelai noted, surreptitiously glaring at them over the rim of her coffee mug. "Do Cathy Zebreski's boobs look bigger to you?"

Sookie snorted. "Rory's got bigger boobs."

"They're definitely bigger. She's had a boob job. And look at the way she's leering at him."

Eyes rolling, Sookie peppered her chicken salad with a flourish.

"I'm being irrational, huh?" Lorelai sighed, swirling a fry into ketchup. "Persecuting that innocent cow when I'm the whore."

"You are not a whore."

"He's ignoring me."

"Somebody spear me. He's been sneaking you those same secret, pining looks you've been giving him over your steak sandwich. And when he refilled your coffee? He felt you up on the sly."

"He did not and you're not helping. I'm tormented here. Max is a great guy who adores me and is willing to put up with my mood swings, my quirky eating habits…"

"Ah, but so is Luke. Who is also open to having sex in places other than bed, which is a real plus."

It was Lorelai's turn to be disgusted. "I need a more serious friend. One who berates me for being stupid, not one who squeals and dances when I tell her I've slept with someone other than my fiancé."

"If it had been anyone but Luke, I would have berated…" Sookie leaned towards her and exclaimed in a hushed voice. "…but it was Luke!"

"Tormented, Sookie."

"So am I. You haven't given up any details."

"I'm this close to punching you."

"Maybe you wouldn't be so tormented or bitchy for that matter if you actually talked with Luke about what happened."

"Impossible. He keeps doing these fabulous things to my body and then leaving."

"Hon, excuse me for not wanting to act as your moral sounding board, but you just gave me this news a couple of hours ago and I'm still processing. You should be agonizing about this with Luke. Me you should be giving deliciously scandalous details."

Grumbling, Lorelai picked at her sandwich.

"You know." Sookie studied The Whore. "Upon second look, Cathy's boobs do look bigger. I think Luke noticed too."

"Not taking the bait."

"Seriously, she's really a nice woman when you get past the three marriages and the affair with her second husband's brother. More importantly, she's not engaged, so since you can't have him, I don't see why she shouldn't."

"Bitch."

Lorelai determinedly pushed away from the table and took several confident steps towards the counter where Luke now stood. But the closer she got, the weaker her steps became until she was creeping awkwardly towards him. Three days ago they'd been as intimate as two people could get and the phone call she'd made to him later had at least dissipated some of the awkwardness of their parting. Yet here she was, once so confident in her interactions with men, now barely able to function around this one.

"We need to talk." She whispered, eyes following his pen as it inked numbers on a bill. Luke neither looked up nor acknowledged her command, so she leaned forward and hissed louder. "We need to talk."

Luke's attention remained fixed on his task. "Alright."

"Tonight?"

"Alright."

"I can come here. After you close."

"Alright."

So that was done. She was so relieved, she didn't even question his indifference. Maybe he was pissed because she'd been avoiding him and the diner until Sookie, after being clued in, had insisted they come here for a late lunch. At any rate, Lorelai should have gone back to her table, but she remained at the counter, partly because she liked looking at his fingers and partly because The Whore kept glancing their way.

"Anything else?" Luke asked and Lorelai's head snapped up to see he was actually looking at her. Not indifferently, but not as if he was thrilled to see her either.

"No. Yes. What's going on with Cathy Zebreski?"

"What?"

"It's just…I noticed she's been…leering at you." Lorelai commented, inwardly wincing cause she sounded so…stupid.

He frowned. "She was being nice."

"And leering."

He grinned. Grinned. Those nice teeth of his were bared in amused male arrogance because of her infinitesimal display of jealousy. Luke. Grinning. The sight was so bizarre,Bootsy nearly tripped as he loped by on his way out of the diner.

"You okay, Luke?"

The grin broadened, a small chuckle even accompanied it as Luke nodded, grabbed his order pad and moved away. Lorelai returned to her table and spent the rest of her lunch pointedly ignoring Sookie's desperate pleas for sex details and scowling at a now very smug Luke as he graciously waited on customers. Particularly Cathy Zebreski. Unable to bear anymore, Lorelai dropped bills on the table and skulked from the diner as casually as possible, Sookie stumbling loudly after her.

"Lorelai." Sookie huffed behind her. "Please?"

"God, Sookie!" Lorelai groused irritably, heels clicking loudly as she zoomed around the corner. "Is Jackson not sexing you enough that you're begging for details about my sex life?"

"Just one detail, any one you wanna give me. Was it rough? Kinky? Is he loud?"

"Sookie!" Lorelai spun around to glare down at her.

"I can't help it! I've watched you two dance around each other for years and I want details! It's like watching a TV show where the man and woman keep having these moments that are just reeking with delicious sexual tension and they're either clueless to it or pretend to be clueless or are always on the verge of it a twisted and cruel mind fuck by the way. And you're so disgusted, you almost switch to a craptacular show about teen angst because the teens are actually getting some action, but the much anticipated romance finally starts to happen, only they gloss over the sex scene and you're pissed cause you don't know how it was. I wanna know how it was!"

"Jackson is so not sexing you enough."

"Please?"

Resigned, Lorelai continued walking, at a slower pace in deference to a panting Sookie. "You know that sauce you make?"

"Whoa." Sookie looped an arm through Lorelai's, eager and animated. "That great? I mean I don't mean to brag, but that sauce is freaking amazing, which means the sex was "

"Freaking amazing. He should write a book." Lorelai smiled, letting go of misery for just a moment. "There was a little awkwardness, you know? The first time there's always a little awkwardness, but he could have been done in thirty seconds and I would have loved it."

"Wow." Sookie marveled. "You are a whore."


	8. Chapter Eight

"Tired?"

Spread eagle in bed and one deep breath away from desperately needed sleep, Luke peeled open an eye to study Lorelai studying him. "What do_ you_ think?"

"I think I should bottle you."

He gave that little half-snort half-laugh that Lorelai found both manly and adorable. Lounging naked between his thighs, chin propped on his chest, she continued to tease. "I could make a killing. You make the best coffee, you cook, you fix things, and who knew you were hiding all _this_ under the flannel?"

"Stop."

"And I had no idea bodies could twist into such interesting positions."

"Well…" Eyes closed again, he tunneled fingers through her hair and gently coaxed her head to his chest, a move calculated to keep her from wiggling -- and thereby arousing -- his drained body. "…I was inspired."

Quiet…dark…cozy. Cool sheets and warm man. With fingers soothing her scalp and the lulling rise and fall of his chest under her cheek, Lorelai drifted in and out of consciousness until she was dozing. Then a small, sharp whack woke her up completely. She lifted her head to glare at Luke, squinting and scowling against the light now flooding the room as she rubbed her stinging rump. "Was that necessary?"

"I've been shaking you for ten minutes."

She grumbled, bitched. Stalled by yawning and stretching because she really didn't want to go. The scar on his hip caught her eye again. She'd wanted to question him about it earlier, but they'd both been too busy for conversation. Lorelai asked him about it now, running a finger over it and Luke reluctantly gave her the CliffsNotes version of how he'd earned his childhood badge of honor.

"So you were jumping ten barrels on your ten-speed because…"

"…of my worship of Evel Knievel…"

"…and you crashed and burned on the fifth barrel…"

"…_sixth_ barrel..."

"Fifth… sixth…you still failed miserably at obliterating Evel's record. But you've got this extremely manly scar to show for it."

"It's barely visible."

"But it's phallic-shaped, a whole other level of sexy."

Dirty Lorelai. Luke was quite smitten with her.

"A Trekkie and a daredevil…that's a potent combination. And the tattoo just screams you were out to impress some girl."

"It screams beer and Bootsy don't mix."

"I'm getting this bizarre image of Bootsy wearing nothing but your letterman jacket, sporting a matching tattoo on his ass and I am _so_ jealous."

There was another soft smack to the bottom, less sting and more caress. "We were in high school, he dared me, we went to some tattoo parlor in the next town, I pointed, there it is."

"I was hoping for deep, angst-filled meaning, but…" she dropped her head to kiss it, shimmied lower. "…it's still pretty."

On several lucky occasions, Luke had been fortunate enough to witness Lorelai enjoying an ice cream cone and it had surely been laced with ambrosia from the gods judging by the way her tongue had dipped and swirled. Now her tongue mimicked that same dipping and swirling, skimming along the length of the scar, only slower and with infinitely more reverence. Luke was wide-awake. He dragged her up his body, the scrape of supple breasts and too soft thighs over his crotch blasting away the last remnants of drowsiness.

"It _is_ getting late." Lorelai murmured, realizing she'd started something that most certainly needed more time to be finished. But Luke brushed off the protest because it was feeble and her fingers were circling and stroking…no, she didn't want to leave. Face buried in her neck, he inhaled the Luke-Lorelai scent of her before biting softly into the curve of her neck. He almost had her too, especially when very calculated, rhythmic squeezing of her bottom made her go limp against him, but damn…

"It's getting late." She repeated forcefully, struggling out of his embrace. "Rory will wonder where I am."

Luke eased his grip, allowing her roll off him. "Where does she think you are?"

"At Sookie's. Doing…stuff." She finished lamely, ashamed as she disappeared into the bathroom.

He should feel ashamed too, but happiness had a way of obliterating misgivings and self-recrimination and cheating. In blissful denial, he listened to the running water and Lorelai's off key version of _Rawhide_. In his bed, his bathroom, he loved having her here. _Really_ loved watching her wander around nude, he mused, as she ambled back into the room, mangling some other tune, repeatedly mooning him as she bent to retrieve her hastily discarded clothes.

"Panties?" She approached the bed warily, willpower focused on resisting the potent mélange of tattoo and scar.

Luke found the scrap of neon green in the tangled bedclothes and tossed them to her. He watched her slide the panties up over those long, soft legs, adjust her bra over her breasts, tweak her unruly curls into order. He could spend all night watching her -- women were fascinating when they primped -- but it was well past time for her to go home.

"Where're you going?" Lorelai asked later, when he was dressed and tugging on his shoes.

"Walking you home."

Grasping flannel shirttail, she followed him out of the apartment and downstairs into the dimly lit diner. "I know the way home."

"It's not safe for a woman to be out alone at night."

"There a serial troubadour on the loose?"

"Chivalry isn't dead, it's just not appreciated."

"I don't mean to be unappreciative." Lorelai crept to a window to peek out. "People might get suspicious if they see us together."

"So you won't be eating here anymore? Roping me into participating in any sadistic town rituals or begging me to fix whatever part of your house is broken? People'll get suspicious if they _don't_ see us together."

"Stop making sense."

At nearly ten on a Sunday night, most of Stars Hollow was deserted. The lack of potential gossipmongers put Lorelai at ease and Luke's quiet but strong presence was like a magnet, drawing her closer and closer until their arms were brushing together lightly as they moved through the serene town. It was nice being together without the pretext of handy man work, hospitalized fathers, or sadistic town rituals. And Lorelai couldn't help comparing this moment to the last time someone had walked her home. No need to think and rethink every word or gesture. No need for magical snow to make the guy more magical. Sexy banter optional. Silence and the right man was beautiful.

Lights in the Gilmore house were blazing when they made it there, stopping just shy of the porch steps. "Looks like Rory is waiting."

"Then I'll see you both tomorrow." That was meant as a goodnight, but he made no move to leave. An empty apartment was waiting for him and where was the joy in that? Blissful denial was suddenly unappealing. "I guess we forgot to have that talk."

Lorelai's mouth twisted into a wry grin. "That was your fault."

Luke thought back to earlier that evening, after she'd shown up at closing and he'd led her up to his apartment. He'd been distracted by her hair. That little sliver of hip that her low rise jeans revealed. The clingy pink T-shirt she wore. Yeah, it was his fault. "We could talk now."

"We do have issues to clear up."

Each waited for the other to speak. Eyes wandered elsewhere. _Now_ the silence was awkward. Luke's keen eye took in a crooked post, the flickering front porch light that suggested a loose wire somewhere. A window screen was slightly ajar. One of the Jeep's tires needed air.

"Hey."

His gaze slid back to an amused Lorelai.

"Where have you been the past two minutes?"

"Making a mental list of stuff that needs fixing around here."

"Yeah…I've been paying my bills. You know, you and I have never had a problem talking. Or shouting at each other for that matter." She pointed out.

"The dynamic has changed a little."

"A_ little_?" The understatement seemed to underscore how truly screwed up her personal life had become. In the space of twenty four hours. "Maybe we should put us on hold. Until I've resolved my situation."

"That might be best."

"Things between us will just get more complicated unless I fix what I've already messed up. I don't want things with us to be complicated."

Sounded reasonable, but how much longer would he have to wait for something he'd already been waiting on for years? "Which will be?"

She sighed. "I don't know. Soon. I can't break his heart over the phone, Luke."

"Right." He hadn't meant to push. The odds seemed in his favor, but she could wake up tomorrow and decide she'd made a mistake after all. They'd gone about this whole thing wrong and he told her as much. "I guess we should have gone the traditional route, you know…declared our feelings…dated."

"Well…sometimes it's fun to have dessert before dinner."

First the skimpy pink top and now _that_, delivered in a sultry voice and with a shy smile too. She should run, cause he was all for christening her lawn.

"So we'll put us on hold...until you deal with your situation." He confirmed, retreating a safe distance.

"Definitely."

"Unless you wanna go back to the way things were?"

"That would be kinda hard, seeing as I'm all emotionally engaged."

He liked that answer. He really wanted to kiss her goodnight. Instead he reached for his wallet, moving towards her again. "There's something I wanted you to see. Not to pressure you or anything."

Lorelai wrapped fingers around the small, carefully folded paper he slid into her palm and Luke squeezed her hand lightly, leaned close. "Just wanted you to know…I'm emotionally engaged too."

She took the steps sideways, smiling. Stumbled on the top step, caught herself, but that smile never wavered. Luke was smiling too as he turned to leave, probably would have tripped too if he had something to trip over. Dean and Rory were nowhere near this pathetic.

He couldn't help but glance back and he saw Lorelai in the open doorway, that tiny but significant scrap of paper open between her fingers, an expression of absolute wonder on her face.

Just the look he'd been going for.


End file.
